A Moment Of Goodness
by evergreeneyes
Summary: A Death Eater considers their victim during the Final Battle. A short one-shot. Canon pairings, but could be considered AU as it is not completely epilogue-compliant. T for mentions of violence, although not explicit.


A Moment Of Goodness

They stood facing each other, tense, opponents in the boxing ring.

His second mission, his chance to redeem himself.

And it would be so easy; she had made it so easy. Far away, in another time almost, he could hear the noise of the raging battle - dulled and muffled by the impenetrable forest around them. Minutes before she had been there, fighting, sending curses at Death Eaters and dodging their retaliation. Her movements were surprisingly fast and fluid, but she would not be able to outrun him. He had been watching her all these hours.

This moment was the culmination of his efforts.

She would not run, anyway. The moment she turned her back, he could hit her with the curse. In seven years, he had not grown to know her well, or even much at all, but he knew those Gryffindors; they liked to face their death straight on, stare it in the eyes as it came - their final statement of bravery. She would not hide among the trees like a fugitive. Like a coward. Like a Slytherin.

He had her wand, or rather, Bellatrix's wand. He caressed the smooth walnut and wished she had still had her own. To kill her with her own weapon…

But it was not to be. He briefly thought of the girl who had led his conquest so brilliantly, so unintentionally, to him. He did not know what had happened to her. Poor little Ginevra Weasley, carried away by good old Fenrir. His victim was the only one who had noticed, in the threat of the battle, that that ginger bint was missing, and the only one who had seen the flash of red by the forest, the werewolf's hunched back.

Hermione Granger had fatally overestimated herself. So she had thought she could take down a werewolf on her own, had she? Greyback was no Lupin - he was a monster. She should be grateful to him for following her, cornering her, before Fenrir could maul her slowly to death. Perhaps he should make her death slow. He wondered how the cruciatus would feel to cast, knowing you could have that kind of power over the brightest witch of the age. Over anyone.

Her wandless magic would not save her - how could she protect herself from an unforgivable? He doubted she had ever had cause to practice doing such a thing without her wand.

She was his prey, and he was infinitely more powerful.

He could recall easily the last time they were in this forest together. It was first year, and she was a tiny little mudblood with over-sized teeth and a puffskein of hair. Not much had changed. Only grown, developed, into something more serious. More adult. More deadly.

They had seen Quirrell, and Voldemort, drinking the blood of a unicorn. He shivered, and thought of more pleasant things.

Oh, how devastated Potter and Weasley would be when they found their friend's body. Especially Weasley - he knew they were … romantically linked. He wondered if Potter's girlfriend was dead already.

He looked at the young woman before him. She had probably dreamed of a sunny little house for them to live in, filled with mini-Weasleys giggling and playing and doing all of the things children probably did. He laughed at the thought, and her jaw tightened at the harsh sound.

She looked like she might punch him again. He remembered that well, too.

And he remembered SPEW, and her tireless efforts to save that bloody hippogriff who had practically bitten off his arm. How ironic.

She had tried so hard to save everyone, but there was no-one to save her now.

"Avada kedavra!"

There was a flash of that infamous green light, and the world ended for one more person that day.

Harry Potter stepped towards the best friend he had just rescued, plucking the wands out of the limp grasp of the young Death Eater as he went.

A redheaded girl appeared through the trees, her brother and Neville at her side. She had been so close to death and escaped it; she was smiling.

The heroes headed back to the main battleground, leaving Draco Malfoy on the dirt floor of the Forbidden Forest, his last thought perhaps still echoing around his lifeless mind.

"I don't have the right to deny anyone their happy ending; not even her."

**A/N:**** I hope you enjoyed it.**

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